Gangs of Lower Tokyo
by Mirror and Image
Summary: [Complete AU] Shuten runs a simple gun shop in the lower regions of the divided Tokyo. Little does he know that a trinket he just obtained will drag him into a gang war the likes of with not seen since the Great Split of Tokyo.


**Gangs of Lower Tokyo**  
By Mirror and Image

* * *

Shuten looked out to the horizon and saw an overcast sky. He was never fond of these kinds of days, because it cast Lower Tokyo completely in shadows and gave the already desolate city a desperate air. It was on these days where violent crimes happened as people walked by, unseen because of the catatonic mood of the poor. 

Cracking his jaw, Shuten threw an angry glance at the roof of Upper Tokyo and wished he could see the sun. The moment passed, however, and he brought himself back to reality as he unlocked the doors of his arms shop and stepped inside his livelihood.

He threw his light overcoat onto the coat rack and placed the package in his hand on the front counter. The mail was in a pile on the floor, as expected. He'd been gone for a week, buying outside his normal territory to bring a new flavor to his shop and to set up new connections, if he could. He threw everything but the bills away, and the bills he hid in the bottom of his register. It was his second late notice; but he wouldn't worry about that until a week with his new stock. Maybe by then he'd have enough to pay them.

Cleaning things off, he pulled out his purchases and went about pricing and tagging them. All but one. Placed and set, he flipped the sign on his store and took his place at the front desk, pulling out his last treasure to admire it yet again.

Shuten was a collector, you see. In his back room was a menagerie of odd little trinkets that often had nothing more in common than striking Shuten's eye. His latest find was a jewel.

Holding it in the palm of his hand, Shuten gazed at the gem reverently. It was an opaque shade, somewhere between green and teal; shaped like a seed, it had a tiny whole drilled into tip of its shape where a looped tassel hung. Honestly, it was hardly special; there were many jewels and gems of much prettier cuts and designs. But there was an energy that drew Shuten to it. He had stared at it for almost an hour before he finally scrounged up the money to buy it. Now he hung it by its tassel and watched it swing lightly in his hand, mesmerized by something it held.

In retrospect, that may have been his undoing, displaying the jewel out in the open for the common passerby to see.

He didn't hear the gunshot, but he heard and watched the front window shatter into minute pieces. Instinct made him duck, pulling his out his sidearm and his personal shotgun underneath the counter, he waited until the shots - that first was followed by many - subsided before he dared move. Clicking off his safety, he crawled to the edge of his counter and glanced out.

The shop was a mess. Glass and injured guns lay everywhere, months worth of buying and display and time gone in thirty seconds of unwarranted enemy fire. His face flushed with anger, and he cursed under his breath.

Footsteps appeared, and Shuten hid back behind his counter as the steps of four or five men entered his shop.

"Where'd he go?"

"Don't know. Shit, did you have to open fire like that? What if you hit the object?"

"I'm too good for that, now shut your holes."

Shuten took a long, silent breath, preparing himself. Then he carefully took aim under his counter, the jewel still laced on his finger, and fired three shots; shattering the ankles and legs of those nearest him. The cries of agony erupted, and everyone jumped, not knowing where the shots had come from.

"The counter! The counter!"

Shuten was prepared for this, however, and raised his shotgun and fired when he saw movement. Blood splattered over him but he paid it no mind as he scrambled to his feet, shotgun in one hand and sidearm in another. The three who's legs he had dismembered were still screaming on the floor, the man whom he'd shot was now in pieces. The final intruder, however, had a high powered rifle leveled at him, red laser no doubt shining on his forehead.

"Just try it, you chicken-shit."

Shuten wasn't about to back down from a challenge, but it was the perfect stand off. The two stared at each other, waiting for the other to loose patience as sweat gathered at their temples. Shuten's adversary was dressed in black, obviously a pro, and perfectly steady. His dead and injured companions were similarly dressed, and Shuten knew that this was not an ordinary street war that spilled into his shop. This was directed at him.

"What do you want?" the redhead asked.

"You don't need to know, 'cause you're brains will be soup on the floor."

"Poetic."

Movement caught Shuten's eye, and he watched in fascination as a blonde he'd never seen before walked calmly up to Mr. Black in perfect silence. There was a swift motion and a heavy thud, and the pro sank to the floor.

"... the hell?" was what Shuten wanted to say, but instead he only nodded his thanks. It wasn't everyday a passerby actually acted like a Samaritan.

"It's not over yet," the blonde whispered, his lavender eyes sharp. "You don't want to know how many are outside."

"And you got in here?"

"I'm considered a neutral party, most of the time. You'll come out with me, quietly, with your hands up, pretend that I have you. When the time comes, run." He paused. "And for god's sake, hide that jewel or they'll kill you for sure."

Shuten looked down, the seed jewel still dangling from his fingers. There was not a drop of blood on it. Hiding it in his holster, he grabbed as many clips as he could hide. The blonde did nothing, standing perfectly still.

"Who are you?"

"A formerly neutral party, but now things have forced me to make my preferences public. When you get out of here, go to the Herbal Clinic."

Shuten blinked. "That's a gang hospital."

"Yes, there will be friends there. Besides we have to make this look convincing." The blonde walked up, grabbed Shuten's shotgun arm, and wrenched. Pain exploded in his elbow, shooting in all directions.

"Jesus fucking Christ what the fuck was--" A hand covered his mouth.

"Naaza can fix that in a matter of minutes, with no bandages or residual pain. As I said, this needed to look convincing. Hide your sidearm."

Shuten did as he was told, liking this mess less and less. Somehow he had stumbled into something big, something very, VERY big. The blonde - surprisingly gently - lead him outside his gun shop to the sight of something out of a bad cop movie. It was war on the streets, a giant mass of chaos, weapon fire, knives, fists, blood, and violence.

Shuten moved as he was guided expertly through the battlefield and down the street. He knew, as the blond obviously did, that when the fighting thinned out was when things would get dangerous, because that's when people would notice and ask questions. Shuten kept his throbbing arm close, hoping his blonde captor would just disappear and leave him to fend for himself. That was what Shuten was used to, after all.

"Hey, you! What the fuck are you doing?"

The blonde threw a glare at the voice, and Shuten could literally feel the intimidation that he radiated. The redhead wondered dimly what would have happened if it was the blond that had lead the raid on his shop.

"I'm doing my job, gathering information."

An automatic appeared and was leveled at the blonde's head. "Then you'll give it to me."

There was an erstwhile push, and Shuten took his cue. He didn't look back as shots erupted and there was a snapping sound. The jewel bounced in his holster, but he paid it no mind as he made his way to the Herbal Clinic.

Now was not the time for questions.

* * *

Shuten treaded carefully into the Herbal Clinic. Despite the fact that it was a known gang hospital, the only patients he saw in the small reception area were families. Mothers with their coughing children. Siblings tending malnourished siblings. Young persons not yet in a gang in need of antibiotics of some sort. Not at all what he expected. He walked forward to the receptionist, a middle-aged woman with graying hair, bifocals, and a weary face. 

"Can I help you?" she asked, her voice deeper than Shuten would have thought.

Glancing around, he replied with a soft whisper. "Some blond man with lavender eyes said that a Naaza here could fix me up in no time." He sounded like some sort of conspiracy theorist, but damn it, he'd been sent here by a blond gaijin after his shop had been shot up and an army tried to fight it out on his front doorstep. So sue him if he felt the need to be a little more cautious.

Still, the receptionist merely blinked and said, "You're right on time for your appointment. Please follow me." Shuten raised an eyebrow but obeyed. His arm was throbbing painfully as he was led down a hallway through a room and down another hallway. Funny, the clinic didn't look this big from the outside. They finally arrived at a thick door where the receptionist knocked in a pattern.

"What?" a hissing voice grumbled, opening the door to reveal a green-haired doctor with a pair of glasses sliding down his nose to reveal snakish eyes.

"Date-san sent this man."

"If you mean the blond," Shuten growled to hide his confusion, "he's the one who twisted my arm. Literally."

"Fuck." Somehow, it felt very wrong to hear a doctor use such language. "Asako, shut down the clinic. We'll be down for a few days. Make sure everyone has their medications, and if anyone needs stitches or bandages, get their addresses and check them out later on."

The receptionist nodded and disappeared back down the hallway. The snake-man quickly pulled Shuten into his office. Inside were no windows, but lots of shelves. The shelves were covered with just about every kind of medical book imaginable for an impressive collection as well as several dried herbs and jars of powders. There was also a black bag reminiscent of old movies of when doctors actually made house-calls that seemed to be overflowing with various medical contraptions.

Still, Shuten's confusion won out over observation. "What the hell is going here? Why did my shop suddenly become a warzone? Why did that blond gaijin--"

"Nihonjin, pure."

"--twist my arm lead me through the war and send me here? What's so important to start a gang war not seen since the Great Split?"

Before he could ask any more questions, a hand slapped him across the face.

"Shush," the snake-man commanded. With his overly long sleeves already rolled up, the good doctor quickly pulled open Shuten's shirt without even asking for permission and slid the sleeve off the injured arm, holster still looped. "I don't know what you did to attract that kind of attention," an ugly green filmy cream covered the doctor's hands, "but it must have been major to bring out our fake neutral." The cream spread over Shuten's elbow and he could almost instantly feel relief from the throbbing pain.

"And?" Shuten prompted.

"You'll have to see Wildfire."

Shuten stilled. "What?"

"We'll have to hurry. They probably sent a tail after you, and we'll have to leave as soon as you're elbow's set."

"Back up, did you say Wildfire? As the leader of the Nine Virtue clan? And _I_ have to _see_ him?" Shuten's face must have been paling several shades.

The doctor offered a hissing laugh. "His reputation again. That will piss him off." Once the cream was applied, a roll of bandages came out and Shuten's elbow was wrapped in no time.

"I'm Venom, but most call me Naaza. You?"

"Shuten. I run a gun shop." Shuten paused, his shock finally wearing off, and realized that the snake had just tricked him into revealing more information about himself than he was really ready to give. "You should be called Snake."

Naaza grinned widely. "Where do you think the Venom came from?" Shuten shook his head. "I can give you directions to where you can meet up with Wildfire." The snake-face dropped to a grim expression. "You'll have to hurry there. The streets are no longer safe for you anymore. If this is big enough to bring out Seiji, then every gang in Lower Tokyo will be after you. I'll get a runner to guide you and keep you in the shadows." Shuten merely growled something unintelligible.

Naaza put a hand on Shuten's shoulder. "You can trust us. Unlike the other gangs, we take care of all that we can. No innocent blood will be spilled if we can help it."

Shuten was skeptical. The Nine Virtue clan _was_ known for avoiding some of the nastier parts of gang activity if they could, but that didn't mean they were above committing such acts. For all Shuten knew, he might be one of those necessary evils that the Nine Virtue clan may have to partake in, and he wasn't looking forward to that being the case.

There was another rhythmic knock at the door and the receptionist came in. "The waiting patients are gone. I'll go start visiting those who needed immediate treatment, Orochi is starting to move the other patients."

Naaza nodded and tossed her his medical bag. "Asako, don't forget the Hashima family. Their baby's due any day now."

"Good luck, sir."

The young doctor nodded and pulled out another salve form his collection of jars, which he applied directly to the bandage, sending a tingling sensation through Shuten's arm. Once that was done, the bandage came off, leaving the tingling behind. Shuten couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at the doctor.

"The less people know about my healing, the better," the snake hissed. "Stay here. I need to move patients, and you need to wait for my runner."

Shuten bristled at the order. He still had no answers to _any_ of the questions he'd thought of since his shop was shot up a mere hour before. It was like someone had thrown him into some sort of action movie and hit fast forward, and he didn't much appreciate it.

Naaza turned tired eyes to the young collector. "I know you've got questions. So do I. Patience. All will be understood eventually, and racing towards it never did anyone any good."

Shuten grumbled something as the doctor continued pulling out various items from his shelves and making them disappear into his long white coat. In a moment he was gone, probably to help evacuate his patients, leaving the young collector to his own devices, while waiting for his... guide.

Letting out a sigh, Shuten decided to ease his boredom and frustration by looking around the room. They say that what a person reads can tell you a lot about them and Shuten took to studying his doctor. The good snakish doc was certainly knowledgeable. The sheer number of medical journals, books and even experimental practices indicated that the snake had a wealth of knowledge for his craft. The medical books were in many languages, though Shuten had to wonder when the snake got the opportunity to _read_ any of them. Sprinkled throughout the biological and chemical literature were books on crime, both fictional and non-fictional. Shuten frowned. Did the snake think he was some sort of amateur hero or did he merely wish to delve into the criminal mind to understand the organization that he worked for? Even one or two historical novels of samurai littered the overstocked shelves. At last something in common. Samurai.

Shuten pulled out a well thumbed copy of _The Book of Five Rings_, though a different edition than the one he had in his safe back at his totaled gun shop. Well, what better way to pass the time? Shuten easily found the passages that he personally enjoyed and sat back to read. From what the snake had said, it was a good chance that he'd have a long wait before his "guide" to the Nine Virtue clan arrived, and if Shuten let his mind chew this puzzle around too much, he'd be driven either paranoid or insane. Better to let it quietly filter around in the back of his mind. The young collector found that when he didn't think on something, the ideas would come to him, so he resolved to do the same this time around.

It was some time later when the whole building shook, letting several of the doctor's books wiggle free from their shelves and fall floor in an undignified heap. Shuten leapt up, gun in hand, and steadied his nerves. _Earthquake? No..._ Earthquakes in Japan were unheard of nowadays, after the Earthquake Prevention Team set up a barrier within the foundations of Lower Tokyo. No, this had to be something else.

Slowly, Shuten opened the door, peering out crack, and watching the halls. Though he had seen few people in the clinic outside of the waiting room, the hall was now filled with patients in gurneys, aides checking their blood pressure and vitals while doctors from a different hospital took them away.

Right. Everything seemed under control, but Shuten couldn't shake a bad feeling that something else was going on. So he watched. The doctors and nurses kept looking after the well being of the patients, each getting some sort of injection.

"What the fuck are you doing to _my_ patients?" bellowed a hissing roar.

Down the hall came the snakish doctor with an assistant of similar coloring, a relative of some sort, Shuten guessed. "Who the fuck are you douche-sucking mother-fucking dipshits?" He grabbed the nearest doctor and slammed him against the wall. Taking the vial he had been injecting, he tossed it to his assistant. "Orochi?" he hissed.

The assistant looked at the label and paled considerably. "Lethal injection." The snake's face twisted in fury as a fist found the evidently pretend-doctor's temple. "Get the _fuck out of my clinic_!" He slithered to them ready to strike like a cobra and Shuten finally understood the name Venom. The murderers would have none of that, however, and converged on the snake and his assistant, only one lagging behind.

Shuten recognized the gun. It was a sleek air-gun, not seen since the twentieth century. The kind good for a dart. The young collector didn't need to be a genius to figure out what was about to happen. He aimed his trusty automatic Ishijisa and fired at the murderer's back.

The shot stilled all motion in the halls as the dart-poisoner fell dead to the floor. Naaza and Orochi shook free of the doctors and stood behind Shuten. "Fucking bastards," Naaza hissed, pulling bandages like magic from his coat to treat his assistant.

"I don't know what's going on," Shuten murmured, "but I sure as hell won't let _them_ take me anywhere. Is there a back door?"

"Follow me," the snakish Naaza replied, heading back into his office.

"There's no other exit in there," Shuten growled. "That's the only door!"

Naaza merely smiled. "Trust me."

Shuten grumbled something profane, but once the door was shut, he rammed the chair against it. Outside, the hall exploded in sound as orders where shouted and the butchers outside tried to force the door open. "Now what?" Shuten shouted, holding the door shut with his shoulder. Orochi disappeared under Shuten's desk with Naaza's medical bag.

"Come on!" Naaza shouted.

Shuten fired a round of shots through the door, hopefully scattering those behind it and crouched down. Under the desk was a whole in the wall and Shuten didn't need to be asked twice to crawl in. He was grateful that his elbow was no longer in pain, because this was certainly going to jar it some. Naaza followed, sliding a panel back into place.

Together, the three crawled down the small passage, twisting and turning until they finally saw a light at the end. Outside, the fell into a pile of garbage, an old landfill from Tokyo's lighter days when there was no Upper and Lower Tokyo.

"Now where are we," Shuten demanded, wiping dirt and grime off his face.

"Lower Tenement Housing, Level 12," Orochi replied quietly

"Shit," Shuten cursed.

"You sell guns?" Naaza asked, a cold fury buried in his beady eyes.

"What of it?"

"I need some. Or a blade of some sort. A shoto would definitely be nice. Maybe a wakizashi."

"Do you have any skill with a blade?" Shuten asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Enough," was the reply.

"Sensei," Orochi admonished. "Going back to Shuten-san's shop is inadvisable. There'd be watches."

"Do I fuckin' look like I give a shit?" the doctor hissed.

Shuten merely asked the obvious question, "Why do we have to go back to my shop?" Both turned. Shuten smiled, glad to finally have the upper hand in _something_. "Follow me."

* * *

Within an hour, Shuten had reached familiar stomping grounds. As he guided the two doctors through the trash strewn streets and alleys, he finally came upon a shabby house built in the ancient style, long sloping roofs, stone paths, wide engawa, and rice paper doors. Shuten handed his gun to Orochi, letting him hide it in Naaza's medical bag, and ripped off a piece of his shirt to sweep his hair into a topknot. 

"Kenbukyo-dono!" he called out, slipping into ancient dialect. "I wish to speak with you, de gozaimasu."

A door slid open, and an old man stepped forward, a vicious scar on his chest visible through his gi.

"Koma-kun. Your visit in heartening, though not unexpected in this sudden time of turmoil."

Shuten bowed. "I must beg your forgiveness for my unannounced arrival and haggard appearance. I have been unwillingly drawn into a struggle that I, myself do not understand. I have been stripped of means to defend myself, and come, seeking your aide, de gozaimasu yo."

"Your confusion is unusual, given your keen eyes," the old man replied, slipping into his geta. "Though sometimes, we see ourselves and each other more clearly through the lens of pain and bewilderment." He looked over to the two doctors. "You bear with you two physicians on this visit, Koma-kun."

Shuten bowed further and dropped to his knees. "Despite my attempts to spare innocents from my struggles, these two have been dragged into my turmoil, de gozaimasu. Not only do I seek defense for myself, but also for these two to defend themselves."

"Orochi needs no weapons," Naaza said quietly. "I can kick ass for him and myself."

The old man said nothing, merely staring at the doctor who spoke. Shuten was unsure what the old man would do. Kenbukyo knew Shuten as Koma and trusted him to find good homes for his sword collection, but the old man's trust was very hard to earn. He had no idea how he would take Naaza's interruption and gruffer language.

"You are the doctor whose clinic currently burns?"

All three looked up in shock. Orochi paled; Naaza started to swear a blue-streak, and Shuten just gaped.

"Kenbukyo-dono," Shuten grappled at what words to use to convince the senile old man that they _needed_ his swords, "that is why we need your honored blades, de gozaimasu. To defend ourselves against those savages that would kill those who sleep peacefully in their beds and seek retribution for those already fallen by their swift and evil hands, de gozaimsu."

There was a flash, and Naaza fell back, a wooden stick in his hand, apparently having caught it in mid-air.

"Your physician does indeed bear some skill, Koma-kun."

"Kenbukyo-dono, will you help us, de gozaimasu ka?"

The old man said nothing, but retreated into his home. Shuten stayed bowed, head near the ground.

"Rise, Koma-kun."

Shuten did so without hesitation. The old man was kneeling on the engawa with a set of the most beautiful swords he'd ever seen by his side. He delicately lifted the shoto of the two. "This is Doko, the poison sword of Kiba, the Snake's Fang. I believe it will suit your physician friend well." Shuten bowed in respect, stepping forward and taking the sword, delivering it to Naaza. Though gruff, the snake took the sword with the same honor and respect being given.

Holding out the daito, Kenbukyo continued. "This is Oni, the ogre sword of Cruelty. I have believed it meant for you for some time. However, I hate to deliver it under such circumstances."

Shuten bowed. "I cannot thank you enough for your generous gifts, de gozaimasu. I will find proper compensation for your kindness once this turmoil has been dealt with."

"You need not worry, Koma-kun. Compensation has already been delivered."

Shuten looked up from belting the exquisite sword to his side.

"Mukara-dono and Naria-dono will be guiding you to your next stop in the path you are taking. They have provided well for you."

Out of the shadows walked a pair of dark-skinned people, one with the stance of a warrior, the other with a stance of a guide. "Come," the guide said. "We will take you to Wildfire-dono."

Shuten narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but nodded. He would do nothing to endanger Kenbukyo. The old man had done much for him, and he refused to fight on the old man's property.

"Lead the way," Shuten replied, slipping back into standard Japanese.

* * *

To say that Shuten didn't trust the dark gaijin was an understatement. He didn't know them at all and how was he supposed to know if they were going to take them to the Nine Virtue Clan or not? For all he knew, they were from the gang that had shot up his shop. Trust them? No, Shuten would rather not. 

They were back on the streets, slipping quietly from one shadow to another. They met no trouble along the way, but then again, this far down in Lower Tokyo didn't see gang activity. Nobody gave a damn, and the people and property weren't worth controlling. However, as they started reaching levels where gangs _did_ roam free, Shuten's distrust continued to rise.

They were currently in a small room, deep in a rotting building, taking a break. To make matters more suspicious, Naaza and Orochi didn't seem to recognize the two who were guiding them. Shuten could feel the fury radiating off Naaza, even after several hours to cool off since the discovery that the clinic was burned. It did not make for a pleasant atmosphere.

The warrior of the two turned to the guide. "Naria," he said.

The guide turned, then slowly nodded, then faced the battle-worn party. "We should be able to speak freely now. I am Naria, and this is Mukara. Hardrock-sama has sent us to guide you back to the Nine Virtue Clan so that you may see Wildfire-dono."

"How do we know that?" Shuten growled. "For all I know, you're responsible for all this."

"I assure you, we are not. Wildfire-dono would never have such foolhardy men as those who destroyed your place of business." Her glassy eyes softened. "Wildfire-dono would have preferred to talk with you first."

"You still haven't proven that Wildfire sent you," Naaza hissed.

"No we have not," Naria agreed. "We have no proof to offer either Shuten-san or Orochi-san, since neither have met with Wildfire-dono. The only proof we may offer is to you," she bowed, "but your rage currently prevents you from seeing things clearly. You must let go and seek your calm center, otherwise you will never see Wildfire-dono."

"Easier said than done," Naaza replied, taking a deep breath. "What proof do you have that you are indeed from that hot-headed bastard?"

"Wildfire-dono met with us personally, a rare privilege, and expressed deep concern for what Halo-sama had expressed to him." Shuten watched Naaza like a hawk. It would be the snake who determined if these two were trustworthy or not. The young collector hated having to depend on someone else's judgement, but he bore no choice. The situation was completely out of his control.

Naaza said nothing, showed nothing.

"Wildfire-dono stated that we were to be the guides you requested, instead of Kensuke, whom we believe is your usual runner?"

The doctor gave a slight nod.

Mukara and Naria nodded. "Wildfire-dono knew that gaining your trust would be difficult, so he instructed us to tell you that you must 'Examine your environment. Stand in the sun; that is, take up an attitude with the sun behind you. If the situation does not allow this, you must try to bear the sun in your hands, so as to bring light to all those you aide'."

Shuten recognized the quote from the _Fire Book_ of the _Book of Five Rings_. But the true quote was "you must try to keep the sun on your right side." This quote seemed to be an adaptation. Could it be a secret password for the good doctor and the gang leader? http/ you are from that hot-head."

Orochi let out a sigh in relief and Shuten slowly let out a breath he wasn't even aware he had been holding.

Naaza slowly shook his head. "That bastard would choose that quote to have you gain my trust," he murmured. However, some of the fury seemed to have abated. The doctor seemed calmer, though still thoroughly pissed at what had happened in his clinic. "How are we getting in? The front door will probably be watched."

Naria bowed. "We will be entering through a little known path. In fact, we sit upon the opening now." Shuten looked to the rotting subfloor they sat on and noticed that for something so compromised, it still held all their weight without even so much as a creak.

"Naria," the silent Mukara whispered, standing and pulling out a large boomerang. On silent feet, he padded out the door and down the shadowed hall.

"Already?" she whispered. Standing swiftly, she moved and crouched over a panel of subfloor. A few taps and the panel came out, revealing stairs down below. "This will lead you to the basement," she told them. "Hurry. I will aide Mukara in providing a distraction."

Orochi bolted for the stairs. Shuten drew his gun, aiming it at the door while Naaza slid his new blade out of his sheath. "Allow me to help slice those bastards up," he hissed.

"No," Naria replied calmly with an air of command. "You three are to meet with Wildfire-dono, and you three will. Venom-sama, if you are to take your vengeance, you need to go straight to the top, not deal with the small chess pieces."

Naaza hissed something, but nodded and hurried down the stairs. Shuten followed, keeping his gun aimed at the door as he backed down the steps. Naria shut the panel, leaving them in darkness.

"Let's go!" Orochi insisted, hurrying down the hall. The doctor and collector followed. Shuten wondered at what fate held in store for him when he met this Wildfire.

* * *

The woman who met them in the basement immediately led them to a washroom where they could finally clean up. Naaza immediately set out to patch up Orochi and himself. The young assistant bore the worst of the beating, clearly not knowing how to defend himself, and Naaza focused on his treatment. Naaza himself had various cuts and bruises, but nothing major. Shuten had gotten out without any injuries beside the one that the blond had given him, but the doctor had already treated that. What Shuten liked most about the chance to clean up was the fresh change of clothes. How they knew his size, he didn't really care. He also removed the sword Oni. Shuten may have had skill with the sword, he still preferred his trusty Ishijisa and various guns he kept on his person. The jewel he still kept hidden in his holster, not even daring to take it out while changing. 

Once ready, Orochi was swept away, leaving a stout ash-haired man leading them up through the building.

"Shuu," Naaza hissed. "What the fuck is going on?"

"Be damned if I know," the man replied, a slight Chinese accent lilting his words. "All I know is Seiji sent some sort of word, and suddenly I had the task of finding you and where you might go after we found your clinic burning." The Chinaman turned to Shuten. "You have some unusual sources of weapons. I thought you just ran a gun shop?"

Shuten smirked. "Guns are the majority, yes, but I do some collecting. I know how hard it is to find items, so once in a while, I'll assist a fellow collector."

A thick eyebrow rose. "What if I asked for a true SanJieGun? Straight from ancient China?"

Shuten paused, running through what he knew about the local dealers, and the few he knew outside of Lower Tokyo. "Probably take about a week," he replied. The Chinaman whistled.

"When this mess is over, I'm definitely looking you up." They reached an elevator and proceeded up to the ground floor. The doors opened to reveal a beautiful hotel lobby, straight from the 1920s, it must have been. Marble floors, wood parquet panels, high ceilings with crystal chandeliers emitting a soft glow, and exquisite curtains and tapestries.

"Isn't this a little rich for Lower Tokyo?" Shuten couldn't help but ask.

"Not if you've been carefully maintaining it for centuries," came a voice behind them. Shuten whirled around, already reaching for his holster, but stopped when he saw the man. He was of average height with reddish brown hair and a gentle pair of sea-blue eyes. "My family has owned and maintained this hotel since its construction in 1924. A lot of the replacements we've had to do are imitation, but it still has the feel from when it was made." He turned and bowed to the doctor. "Venom-san, it's good to see you again, despite the circumstances. He's been worried. Please follow me."

Shuten and Naaza said nothing, but followed. They winded through the dining room of rich woods, silver, and soft lighting until they went through the kitchens and arrived at a servant's elevator. "This will take you to him."

The elevator door closed and they started to ascend. "Who was that?" Shuten asked.

"Torrent. The Chinaman was Hardrock."

Shuten balked. It seemed that one by one he was meeting the fabled inner circle of the Nine Virtue Clan.

"Torrent's name is Shin, and Hardrock is Shuu. Good people. Shin tends to be a stick in the mud though. No sense of humor."

The rest of the ride was silent.

When the door finally pinged and opened, they entered a hallway with plush carpeting and rich wood doors with gold numbering. At the end of the hall was a raven-haired man, pacing back and forth. When the elevator pinged, he looked up and rushed over to them. "Naaza, it's so good to see you're not hurt!" He grasped Naaza's hand in a firm handshake and embraced the snake, smiling sadly. "I'm sorry they got to your clinic. I was only just getting word when they started to infiltrate."

The doctor's entire demeanor changed to something softer. He pulled back and ruffled the man's hair. "If you could have done something, I'm sure you would have. I'm surprised you were able to find us at that hold samurai haunt."

Shuten raised an eyebrow, noting the change to a politer language.

The man's face fell into serious resolve. "Venom-san, do you trust this person?" he asked, turning tiger-blue eyes to the young collector.

"He saved my life," Naaza replied. "He has acted honorably, despite dire circumstances." Shuten had the distinct impression that he was suddenly under the microscope, being judged and all around dissected.

"Shuten Doji-san," the young man addressed him, "'In the void is virtue, and no evil. Wisdom has existence, principle has existence, the Way has existence, spirit is nothingness.' What are your thoughts on this?" http/ quote the _Book of the Void_ of the _Book of Five Rings_." Shuten paused, considering what to say. He knew a test when he heard it. His worth of being included in these strange proceedings was being determined. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to answer in a manner that this man wanted. Any answer would be impossible to gauge the reaction to. So what to do.

Shuten sighed. When in doubt, he had no choice but to answer honestly and hope his character was what this tiger-eyed man wanted. "I strongly disagree with that last line, that 'spirit is nothingness'. Musashi may be a damn perceptive man, but I think he was off the mark on that one. Void or not, I'd hate to think that all we work for in this lifetime, not the physical, but the pursuit of self-improvement, would be all for nothing if our spirit, which drives us, ceases to exist. We all learn something every day, not just about how the world works, but also about ourselves and each other.

"And even if the spirit was nothingness in the void, the void is only faced once we die. I plan on living a long life, thank you, and I can't concern myself with what might happen. I must focus on the _now_, because the now is all we have." It was a short answer. He could have spoken a great deal more on his thoughts of the _Book of the Void_, but summed up his thoughts of that quote quite well.

The man smiled, a gentle smile, "You are an interesting person, Shuten-san. I am pleased to meet you." He opened the door to a small, but cozy office. As Shuten expected, he saw a well-thumbed copy of the _Book of Five Rings_ on the desk as the man offered them a seat. "I am in great need of your help. My name is Sanada Ryo, but you probably know me as Wildfire.

"You have questions, I'm sure."

"You're damn right I have questions." Shuten inadvertently started pacing, the confusion and frustration of the last several hours coming boiling out of him with unexpected vehemence. He surprised himself, but at the same time knew better than to hold himself back.

"How the hell did I end up in whatever the hell this is? Why did professionals decide to shoot up my shop? Why was a gang war raging in front of my shop? Why'd that blonde--"

"Date Seiji," Sanada supplied

"--damn near break my elbow and sneak me out of it? What the FUCK is going on that every goddamn gang in Lower Tokyo is after me so they can have my innards!"

Sanada took it all in with a gentle smile, taking no offense to the language, the anger, any of it.

"That's probably the simplest question to ask, so of course it has a complex answer. Sit down, Shuten-san, and I'll do what I can to help explain it to you."

The redhead complied, lulled now that he'd depleted himself. He landed in the nearest chair and put a finger to his temple, already feeling an impending headache.

"Most of this began with my predecessor. He went by the name Kaosu, and was probably even more respected and loved than me, if that's possible." The tiger eyed youth grinned self-deprecatingly. "Kaosu-dono found something very interesting in the basement of this hotel, and it sparked a search that I've inherited. Tell me, how much to you know about the gifts of Amaterasu-sama?"

Shuten blinked, not expecting another historical question. "The sun goddess? She sent her grandson down to Japan to rule it since her brother Susanoo was no longer in charge of it. She gave him the three regalia, the Mirror that drew her out of her cave, the Jewels that adorned it, and the Sword that her brother pulled from the tail of a snake. They were held at Ise Jingu before the Flood buried over a third of the earth. Why?"

"They were lost during the Flood, right?"

"Right."

"Wrong. You're holding one of them right now, aren't you? Considering your run a gun shop, I suspect it's in your holster?"

The redhead flat-lined. Fumbling, he put fingered his holster and wrapped his hands around the tear-shaped jewel and tassel. He had completely forgotten about it.

Sanada only grinned. "There was a fourth gift, did you know that? I haven't heard of it in any research, or in any documentation, but Kaosu-dono was convinced that what he found is the fourth gift that Amaterasu gave her grandson when she dropped him off on earth. Kaosu-dono kept it secret for years, conducting the search for the lost regalia for years until he moved on to politics and passed off the search to me." The blue eyed man leaned back in his chair. "I'm not a researcher, like he was, and I had to tell people about it in order to look for them. Well, word spread, and the other gangs started looking, too. The jewel was found about two weeks ago in a trinket shop, but it was snatched up by one green eyed arms distributor, Shuten Doji."

"You mean, this bauble," Shuten couldn't finish his sentence; he wasn't sure whether to believe this gang leader or not. But the energy around the jewel, the aura that drew him to it, he could not explain.

"I doubt you believe me," Sanada said easily. "But there is an easy way to prove it. I have a scale here," he pulled at a drawer and pulled out an ancient, intricately decorated scale, "that was specifically designed to test the weight of the regalia. It's kind of like an Egyptian ceremony, where the heart of a dead person is weighed against a feather. If it is lighter than the feather, then the soul has passed the river to the underworld. The same principal applies here. The regalia were made by gods, and if that little jewel is lighter than this feather, it is the genuine article. May I?"

Numbly, Shuten pulled out his jewel and gave it to Sanada. With a brisk double clap, he took the jewel and placed it lovingly on one side of the scale, just as he had done with the feather. He clapped again, his brow furrowed in prayer.

Energy seemed to fill the room, and Shuten watched in dumb amazement as the feather sank and the jewel rose, proving it was the lighter of the two.

"I'll be a mother fucker," Naaza blurted, inadvertently slipping back into his gruff language.

Sanada opened his eyes and grinned, the energy dispersing. The jewel still hung above the feather, though.

"May I hold on to this for a while?" he asked.

Shuten blinked, his brain long since stopped working. "That jewel..."

"Yes."

"And everyone's looking for it..."

"And the other regalia as well, the sword and the mirror."

"Damn right you'll keep it! I don't want to get into any deeper shit than what I'm in already!"

Sanada laughed openly. "You know, Shuten-san, I like you. You're refreshingly to the point."

There was a gentle knock on the door. Sanada deftly palmed the jewel and put it and the scale back in his drawer, locking it with his thumbprint. "Yes?" he asked.

A tiny girl, the size of a twelve-year old, slipped in; ignoring Shuten and Naaza, she walked straight to Sanada and whispered something in his ear, her long blue hair hiding her lips.

A worry creased Sanada's brow, one Shuten expected was a common sight, as the slip of a girl continued to whisper.

"Alright. I'll take care of it, Kayura."

Nodding, the now named Kayura silently slipped back out. Shuten and Naaza remained where they were, uncertain what to do as Sanada hung his head in his hands, obviously distressed by something.

"Shuu?" Sanada called out.

"Yeah?" an intercom voice replied. Shuten had heard of intercoms coming out with no panels or buttons, but this was the first he'd seen it.

"Can you spare anyone at the moment? Rajura's gone missing."

"That little spider gets himself into more trouble..." grumbled the reply. "Hacking again?"

"We don't know, only that he's missing."

"Right. With all the fuss from earlier today, most of my people are pretty banged up. I can go, if you want, but I'd want at least two others with me. Especially with today's battle."

Sanada looked up, his face depicting clear frustration until he looked at Shuten and Naaza. An odd light sparked in his eyes.

"Give me a minute, I might be able to get you two guys. Shuten-san, Naaza," he said earnestly. Obviously the intercom must have been shut off. He leaned forward, "the people who trashed your places of business. Do you want them?"

"You're damn right I do," Naaza said. Shuten only nodded his head, suspecting what was about to be asked.

"They're looking for the regalia. Find the items and you'll find them. Rajura, you know him as Illusion, has gone missing. Kayura tells me that he was on a good lead to one of the gifts. Find him, and you may find the people you're after."

Naaza stood, a hand tightly gripping his shoto. "I'm there." He turned and left the office.

Shuten took much longer, weighing his options. He never considered himself a man who looked for a fight, and he wasn't about to start. "The other gangs, they don't know that I've just handed over the jewel. They'll come after me regardless?"

"I'm certain of it," Ryo said, an intensity in his eyes. "I don't want to ask you to get involved, but my back is against the wall. Some of my best were taken down in that fight on your doorstep, I'm still regrouping, and I need good people I can trust." He paused, looking down and sitting back. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't be asking you. If you don't want to get involved, I'll see what I can do about getting you to a safehouse until this mess blows over."

"No."

"What?"

"No. I don't look for fights, but I sure as hell don't do nothing. If they're going to find me, they're going to find me. I'll just make it difficult for them." Shuten stood, putting his Ishijisa in his now empty holster. "I'll need fresh clips."

Ryo gave an unguarded smile, standing as well. "Shuu will take care of them. Thank you, I mean it, thank you."

Shuten found himself grinning as well, "You probably do, too; which makes it harder to say no."

* * *

Leaving the office and returning to the elevator, the Chinaman Shuu was already there, checking his watch. 

"Aiya," he muttered, "It's closing in ten minutes, not enough time to get there." He looked up. "I figured it would be you two. Ryo's predictable that way. Come on."

The pair stepped into the elevator and Shuu moved to give them room.

"The best place for information is closing right now, and after today I'm sure he'll need a few hours to get himself back in good graces with everybody. Man, I'd hate to be in his shoes right now."

"I need clips," Shuten said.

"We're heading there right now. Naaza, you need anything?"

"Blood," the doctor replied with a straight face. His fist was still wrapped around his short sword. "Maybe a few heads."

The Chinaman blinked. "I'll be damned; I've never seen you pissed off other than when you're screaming at patients. Remind me never to get on your bad side."

"Orochi has what I need, and can get me what I don't have."

Shuu shrugged. "Fine."

There was a ding and the doors opened to one of the floors of the hotel. They passed by the occasional guest until Shuu stopped at a room with a "Do not disturb" sign on the handle. Pulling out a guest card, he swiped in through the lock. The door opened to another door, this time one with a thumb scan, which Shuu used and when it opened, all three could enter the room.

Shuu more than provided for Shuten. Not only did he get extra clips, but also a belly gun and a wrist-gun, both of which he quickly concealed. Shuu also provided a mecha-belt to hide all his extra clips.

"Christ, is there anything you don't have?" Shuten asked.

Shuu only grinned widely. "If there is, I'm not sharing it."

Naaza looked around, snagging a few knives and hiding them on his person.

"So you're a blader?" Shuu asked.

"If that's what you call it. I like to think of it as a snake with many fangs."

Shuu laughed. "This is going to be fun. Hey, Doji, you born and raised in Lower Tokyo?"

"... Yeah."

"Not a talker?"

"Not to people I don't know. Not after I've just been chased halfway around the lower levels."

"Ah, you're a brooder, then. Fine, fine. My name is Shuu Rei Fuan, and you'll never find a better fighter than me in all of Japan!" He laughed at his own bravado. "I was born in China, but moved here when I was six. I know seven kinds of martial arts and can kick anybody's ass."

"Is that why you have no weapons?" Naaza asked, checking the edge of a blade.

"Ah, if I need one, I can always pull out this." Reaching in back, Shuu pulled out what looked like a miniature club. With a flick of his wrist, it extended to a good seven feet in length. "That's only one of this pretty's tricks." He flicked again, and it returned to its original hiding place.

"Where are we going?" Shuten asked as they left the room and Shuu relocked the two doors.

"A flower shop. Hope you're early risers, we leave at eight tomorrow."

* * *

Shuten hardly slept. He dozed at best, even in the remarkably soft bed that was provided. He spent his waking hours cleaning all of his guns and making sure they were in prime condition. Dozing for the last three hours, he finally gave up and got up. After showering and dressing, he left his room to see Naaza and Shuu already waiting in the lobby. 

"Where is this flower shop?" Shuten asked.

"Two levels above your shop, it's called 'Floral Relief.' He has everything, and I mean everything; his greenhouses are huge."

"But why are we going there?" he asked.

"Because he is also a node."

"Node?" Naaza asked.

"He's a center of information. People from all the gangs come there and talk, share information. It's neutral ground, and he'll sell information for the right price."

"Then how the hell can we trust him?"

"Because," Shuu said, his voice dropping pitch into an invisible whisper. "He's made it known to a _very_ select few which gang he supports."

The fell into silence as they put on their hats and, in Shuten's case, shades, and left the hotel stronghold of the Nine Virtue gang.

True to Shuu's word, the flower shop was two levels above his gun shop. Lower Tokyo was particularly dark; Upper Tokyo weather reports talked about rain and the slick conditions of the Spiral highway. This was often a source of contention for the people below; as Upper Tokyo's drainage was simply to leak its rain into Lower Tokyo. This was a sickly combination of not only the rain, but also the waste and excrement of Upper Tokyo. The umbrellas were out, nobody with a sense of hygiene dared leave without one, and the air held a thick stench that would make one gag if they weren't used to it.

This made walking into the shop a literal breath of fresh air, as the scents of hundreds of flowers filled Shuten's nose as he closed his umbrella and took off his shades. The shop was covered with the colorful petals, stems, bulbs, seeds, and the occasional scented candle to create a subtle blend of scents that almost automatically made Shuten relax. Almost.

A flower he did not recognize filled his line of sight.

"You strike me as the type to like orchids," an all too familiar voice said. Shuten swatted the flower away and stared at the blonde he had met previously, his lavender eyes no less intense than they were before.

"Yes," he said. "Definitely orchids. You are quiet, pensive, and yet very complex."

"Seiji!" Shuu said expansively, taking off his hat and trapping the blonde in a bear hug. "Long time no see. I heard you had some trouble yesterday."

"No, no trouble," the blonde said indifferently. "I found something that would bring me a lot of money." He glanced at Shuten. "But it got away from me."

"Hey, where's that music you're always playing?" Shuu asked as he walked around the shop, picking up a six pack of baby violets.

"I have only just opened shop," Seiji replied. He looked to a wall. "Music on."

The strings of Pachelbel's Cannon filled the shop, giving and even more relaxed feel to the place. Shuten studied the blonde as he moved to the other side of a flower covered counter. The blonde was good, there was no question of that, his face was carefully neutral; there were very few facial gestures. There were no marks from the previous day's battle, and somehow Shuten had expected some after hearing the gunshots, but all he could see was a band aid on Seiji's thumb.

"What are you looking for today?" Seiji asked; the bright smile of a shop owner of his face.

"Little of this, little of that," Shuu replied. Naaza was browsing the shop, a large collection of seed bags already in his arms. Shuten, not sure what to do, stepped over to a display of sunflowers and daisies, examining them as he listened.

"You'll have to be more specific," Seiji said easily.

"Well, you see, I heard that you just got a special type of flower, one of those cyber-ids or something."

"You mean 'hybrids,' Shuu. You're knowledge of flowers is painfully low. But I believe I know what you are talking about."

"May I see it?"

"It is in my greenhouse in back, if you would follow me?"

Seiji stepped away from the counter and to a door that was almost hidden by the array of flowers on the wall. Shuten and Naaza followed and immediately began sweating. The humidity of the greenhouse was staggering.

"I like it here, because the humidity keeps most listening devices from working," Seiji offered after seeing Naaza and Shuten's looks. For the first time, his shoulders dropped and he put a hand to his forehead, the picture of heavy stress. "It's been a rough two weeks."

"Are you alright?" Shuu asked in a low voice. "The fight yesterday."

"No injuries, if that's what you mean, but I've been up all night smoothing things over with the other gangs. They've never seen me actively seek out information to sell. God, I'm tired." There was a moment of silence, and Seiji straightened, the private moment gone.

"And Illusion?"

"He's _here_."

"What?" Shuu bit his lip to keep from shouting. "How the hell'd he end up here?"

"I don't know," Seiji said. "He was hiding here when I returned yesterday, and he's been chittering nonstop about having valuable information for you. Are you here to take him?"

"Yeah," Shuu said.

"Then please do, he's annoying." A strained smile crossed Seiji's face, and Shuten could tell it was a statement of how annoying this Illusion really was. "You don't want to know how many times I had to shut him up while the other bosses were here. He kept thinking I was going to turn him over. I nearly did."

"Fucker, is he?" Naaza asked, pocketing his seeds.

"You'll see in a moment. Should I send the bill for those to Wildfire?" There was a ding over the music, and Seiji clenched his jaw. "Another customer no doubt; wanting to know what I was thinking last night. Shuu, you know where he is."

With that Seiji turned and left. "Yes, how may I help you?"

The greenhouse was large; huge, actually. But Shuu expertly navigated the long rows of tables, plants, sprinklers, hoses, and garden utensils to a table in a far corner. "Each gang has a 'safe' in this shop. They all know it, but nobody knows where each one is except Seiji. This one's ours." Shuu swung open a door and offered his thumbprint, opening the door to an empty cavity. Knocking on the floor, the lid popped open to reveal a hidden hole, and in it was a fluff of white hair.

"About hackin' time you wandered over here." The hair was attached to a youth, possibly a teenager, with a green lens overshadowing an eye. "Hardrock, Venom. You must be the new member from yesterday."

"I am not a 'member' of anything."

The blue eyed youth grinned. "You say that now. You've got to get going."

Everyone blinked. "Going? Where?"

"Upper Tokyo. I've made all the arrangements. I'm too hot right now, I have to stay here." He reached up to his green lens and somehow pulled out a microdisk. "I typed this up while you and Halo were talking. It has everything you need."

"How the hell did you do that?" Naaza asked.

"Cybernetic eye," the youth said in passing. "That's irrelevant. I've found one of the regalia and--"

Over the music was the sound of gunfire. Everybody's eyes snapped to the front room where Seiji had been entertaining his customers.

"Shit," Naaza cursed.

The door flung open and Seiji dove into it, slamming it behind him and doing something to lock it.

"Seiji!" Shuu called out. The blonde leapt over several rows of tables and slid under another set. The Chinaman ran to him, Shuten and the others following closely and already brandishing their weapons.

"I'm alright," shop owner grunted. There was blood on his arm, however. He reached up and pulled something, and an exquisite no-datchi fell into his hand. Shuten recognized the blade as one from Kenbukyo's collection. "They found out about Rajura. I have no idea how, but they found out. They also know where my loyalties lie. I can't be a neutral anymore. OW!" Naaza was rubbing a salve on his arm and wrapping it.

"It's not serious," the doctor said.

"Okay," Shuu said, taking charge as he extended his staff. "Change in plans. Rajura, it's not safe for you here, you're going with Shuten and Naaza. If you have plans, then you're carrying them out. You know all the hiding places, use them and for god's sake keep your heads down!"

Rajura was already fiddling with his electronic eye. His visage shimmered and morphed into that of a much burlier, rougher man with blood pouring from his abdomen.

"What the hell?" Shuten demanded.

"Holoprojector," the now burly man replied. "It's part of the eye. When things start to get heated, drag me out the back like I'm injured."

The door burst open and a flood of people charged into the greenhouse, flooding it while they over-turned tables and stomped on plants. "Seven years of work, ruined," Seiji lamented. Shuten felt a sudden, overpowering surge of empathy. Seiji clicked another button under the table and suddenly two guns fell down. Picking one up with his good arm, Seiji peaked over the table and took careful aim. Firing, Shuten heard the sickening thud of a body and the splash of blood and bodily fluids. "Serves you right for raiding _my_ flower shop."

Shuu turned to Shuten, Naaza, and the changed Rajura. "You can't afford to be seen. We have to make it look like you've already left. Give us five minutes; then crawl over to the back door. Rajura, you'll have to take if from there."

"Ready?" Seiji asked.

"Ready."

The blonde turned to Shuten, "I am sorry I had to injure you. Naaza took care of you?"

"Yes," he replied.

"Good. If Shuu and I live through this, we'll surely meet again."

Seiji turned to the Chinaman, the pair nodded, and Seiji again aimed over the table, firing several times and from the sounds of things each one connected. While doing so, Shuu moved away for a different angle.

"Over there!"

Dropping the empty gun, Seiji lifted the second gun and stood, firing at will until the clip was empty. "Kenbukyo-sama, forgive me for tainting your sword with blood." Drawing his blade, he leapt into the fray and within one swing decapitated several people.

"Alright! The mighty Hardrock is joining this little brawl! Who wants to test their strength!"

"Nine Virtue! Get'em!"

Shuten and the others sat tight, waiting for their moment. "It's been five minutes," Rajura said after what felt like an eternity. Shuten had a foul taste in his mouth; he hated the idea of leaving the other two alone in this fight, especially so obviously outnumbered. Naaza easily put Rajura's burly arm around his neck and started dragging. Shuten followed, the disguised youth giving subtle directions until they reached a comparatively quiet corner of the massive greenhouse. Rajura reached forward, typing something in a hidden panel until a trap door opened. Shuten went first, sliding down a chute similar to the one in Naaza's office. They did not land in trash, for which Shuten was extremely grateful, but in a back alley, somewhere on level 10. Rajura, his disguise already gone, slid out next, landing gracelessly on the ground; Naaza popping out and landing on top of him.

"Woah, that was fun!" Rajura said as he stood up energetically.

"Mother f--" Naaza started.

"Now, now. No swearing. If you're going to swear, use computer terms instead. It makes you sound more intelligent."

"The hell it does," the doctor replied.

"Come on, we've got a lot to do!" Rajura said excitedly. Without looking back he bounded down the alley, giving Shuten and Naaza no choice but to follow.

* * *

Rajura led them to a small fast-food parlor buried in the alleys of level 9. It wasn't until they sat down and ordered food that Shuten realized just how hungry he was. He hadn't really had the stomach for any food the previous day after his shop was destroyed, and in the swell of things that happened, he never really got the chance to eat. When they were at the hotel, he hadn't been hungry. But now that food was being served in front of him, he was positively famished. He knew the food was junk, despite all the health codes and regulations meant to give people healthier diets, but he didn't care. It was damn delicious. 

Naaza, too, ate with reckless abandon, though not as much Shuten. The lady holograph in front of them that covered Rajura's form, merely sipped her soda and babbled incessantly about how the holographic eye worked.

Shuten tuned him...her...out while he enjoyed his meal.

"So, Naaza-kun, how'd they get into your clinic anyway? You've always bragged about how no enemy could get in."

The doctor turned cold eyes to the woman across from them, and reached under his coat. Shuten reached out with and held Naaza's hand in place, preventing him from unsheathing his shoto.

"You are both part of the inner circle, are you not?" Shuten asked. "Then why taunt him?"

Rajura scoffed, turning his--her nose up in a decidedly feminine manner. "I've heard this snake brag at countless meetings that he didn't need Hardrock's help, because nobody could get into his clinic without his knowing it. And when Halo gets back last night, he tells me that the clinic burned down. Excuse me if I had to know how the foolproof security that _I_ helped install was bypassed."

"Shut the fuck up," Naaza hissed. "If Date told you about that, he also told you about my patients. I'd appreciate it if you held that hackers tongue of yours about such matters."

Rajura shrugged. "I don't even know why Sanada sent you two with Hardrock. It's not like your fighters. And you're supposed to help me retrieve the regalia? I don't think Naaza here even knew about it before today."

"Your point?"

"I need different help, but I'll have to work with what I have."

"Just what is it about this regalia that has every gang in Lower Tokyo after it?" Shuten asked, avoiding another argument.

"Sanada didn't tell you?" Rajura huffed. "Why only that it's _the_ most important find of our century! Our millennium!" he slammed down his soda. Her soda. Shuten growled. "See, Japan's been searching for its three regalia, the Sword, Jewel, and Mirror for eons. Supposedly, whoever holds all three is the true emperor. But, legend doesn't speak of the fourth, most important regalia. The final piece is what judges the holder of worth or not. And it's Sanada's predecessor who found the final regalia, the Shakujo."

"Shakujo?" Shuten sputtered. "Isn't that what priests used to walk with a long time ago?

Rajura sighed, crossing his arms--her arms, emphasizing the bust. "You don't know anything do you? Shakujo were the source of priest and priestess's magic! Not the ofuda, not the prayer beads, the Shakujo! Any priest of any good had a holy shakujo that they were somehow connected with. The Shakujo that _we_ found was not that of a priest, but of a god!"

Shuten and Naaza took a moment for that to sink in.

"Gods exist?" Shuten whispered. "These regalia aren't just objects of worth, they really _are_ from Amaterasu-sama?"

"Well I don't know about _that_," Rajura drawled in a feminine manner, "but I do know that you need the three regalia to get to the Shakujo."

"Back up," Naaza interjected. "We already know where the Shakujo is. Why do we need the regalia to 'get to it'?"

Rajura sighed like he was speaking to very slow children. "_Because_, we know where it is, doesn't mean we can _access_ it! Don't ask me how our illustrious predecessor figured out that there was a Shakujo there, but once word of that leaked to the streets and the kind of power the possessor of all four regalia would have, every gang in _Japan_, and a few outside of Japan are after these artifacts. Upper Tokyo's lockdown on immigration has helped, but the hackin' lust of power is still making the city crawling with wannabe gods."

Naaza whistled.

"Now if you're done mourning your shop and clinic and distinct lack of information, we have a fundraiser to attend."

This time, Shuten didn't stop Naaza from unsheathing the shoto and pointing it to the hacker. "I know you're complete lack of tact stems from seeing far too much during your spying," he hissed, "but you still have the responsibility to _learn_ how to address people. I am more than willing to provide lessons. Shall we begin?"

Rajura sighed, pushing the blade away. "No, no. Now shall we get our binary processing?"

* * *

The young hacker led them to one of the most important businesses in Lower Tokyo: The Elevator. It was where people got all the news and latest happenings in Upper Tokyo and could find out how close (or not) they were to being able to actually _reach_ the sunny city. The Elevator provided the latest Upper Tokyo fashions, trends, the occasional Upper Tokyo Fantasy Party, and some of the more accurate weighing of pros and cons of reaching the rich city. Rajura led them through the building in healthy strides, take an elevator to the top floor. 

"Strata?" he called out. "We're here! The preparations ready?"

"Illusion! You little bastard! You've had him worried sick." A blue head appeared with eyes that had to be the color of the clear sky seen from Upper Tokyo. He was fiddling with a bowtie, his tuxedo making him an incredibly dashing sight. "When Seiji and Shuu told us what happened, he started to worry like I've never seen! All I could do is keep going on these precious 'preparations' of yours in hopes that you would show up."

"You want him?" Shuten replied, "You can have him. He's a royal pain in the ass."

"Ass isn't painful enough," Naaza agreed. "Pain in the balls hurts more. That fits him about right."

Rajura snorted, flipping his white hair over a shoulder, all holograms discarded. "You know you need me. I'll be able to see through all the security cameras at the fundraiser."

Shuten shot a suffering gaze at the young hacker. "You still haven't told us what we're doing."

The hacker rolled his eye. "We're going to get _the_ sword, you modems!"

Shuten frowned. Swords, staffs, knives were appearing left and right. Didn't anyone believe in a good reliable gun any more? Strata and Naaza froze, however.

"You've found one of the regalia?" Strata murmured.

"Oh for a decent motherboard, _yes_!" Rajura was already shrugging out of his clothes behind a door, slipping into his tux that Strata evidently had ready for them. "Why else do you think I put a rush on all this?"

Naaza swore. "Finding two of the damn regalia in about as many weeks? From the stories of it being lost, I thought it would take fucking _years_!"

"It very well may," Strata agreed. "The Mirror's path dries up about twenty years ago."

"Don't remind me," Rajura grumbled, running a cleaning comb through his hair, automatically cleaning and drying it., then pulling it into a loose ponytail. "After all my data digging, still nothing."

"So, this Sword," Shuten asked, switching back to their more immediate topic, "is being sold at the fundraiser we're attending?"

"No, it's being used by a bodyguard we need to meet."

"A bodyguard," Naaza hissed. "In Lower Tokyo?"

"No," Strata replied. "The fundraiser is in Upper Tokyo."

Naaza _and_ Shuten swore. "How the fuck are we going to get up there?" they demanded.

"Me." Strata answered. "I can go between Upper and Lower. I'm a good enough business man that Upper Tokyo needs to see me from time to time. I can get into the fundraiser with my associates without any problem."

"I'm wearing a hakama and gi," the doctor stated. "Not a tux." The three stared at him. "I'm not leaving my shoto behind."

"Blades aren't allowed in public," Strata coolly stated. "It's law. You'd be arrested in a moment."

A snakish grin was his reply. "Not if they think it's fake. Proper potions can make polished steel look like polished wood."

"Damn chemist," was his response.

Shuten sighed. What a crew he was working with. "Do you at least have a shower?"

* * *

His hair pulled into a slick ponytail, his dark tux hidden by an overcoat, and his sense of comfort long gone, Shuten joined Naaza, Rajura, and Strata in the central pillar of the Elevator. Touma pulled out a keypad and quickly typed a combination, opening with a ding a pair of elevator doors. 

"Much faster and driving the Spiral in this weather." Strata said. His tux was pristine, every hair in place. Naaza got his wish and was in a hakama and gi, both of a rich earthy color covered by a royal green haori. The only comfort Shuten found was in his hidden guns. Despite Strata's objections, he refused to leave any of them, and said he could gladly be passed off as a bodyguard.

The happy ding sounded, and for the first time in his life, Shuten stepped out into Upper Tokyo.

As all of the pictures and his imagination had told him, the sky was beautiful. The rain clouds had passed two hours ago, leaving a crystal blue sky and bright white sun. The light reflected across all the windows, glittering and shimmering. The people were dressed richly and well, and Shuten saw dozens and dozens of automobiles, a commodity that was all too rare and expensive in Lower Tokyo.

"So this is how the other goddamn half lives," Naaza muttered under his breath, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Pricks, the lot of them."

Strata coughed, "You may want to clean up that language at the fundraiser; it is a formal affair, after all."

"Screw that."

"Then you don't go," Rajura said snidely.

"Fuck off."

"Naaza," Shuten said slowly. The snake glared but backed off. Neither of them wanted out of this, it was too personal. "What kind of fundraiser is this?" he asked Strata.

"The Yamano's are holding it; they're one of the wealthiest families in the country. They hold one every year to raise money for the people of Lower Tokyo."


End file.
